Lambert hastened as fast as he could to the farther part of the deck, where he had already seen Catherine in the same place where he had left her. But as he came near her he stopped. It seemed to him that nothing had yet been accomplished--that all yet remained to be done. She now turned and saw him. A melancholy smile spread over her countenance.
"Is it not true? Nobody can help me," said she.
"Here is your receipt and your ticket," said Lambert.
His strong, brown hands shook as he gave her the papers, and her thin white hands trembled as she took them. A burning red spread over her countenance.
"Have you done this for me?" said she.
Lambert did not reply, and was greatly agitated as she immediately bowed down, caught his hands and pressed them against her weeping face and lips.
"Kind maiden--kind maiden! what are you doing?" stammered Lambert. "Don't weep. I was glad to do it. I am fortunate to have been able to render you this service. Were it possible I would do the same for all the other unfortunates here. But now let us away. I have but a few hours left. I must begin my homeward journey. I would be glad first to know that you are in safety. Do you know anyone in the city, or in its vicinity to whom I can take you?"
Catherine shook her head.
"Have you no friends among the immigrants who perhaps expect you to accompany them on their farther journey?"
"I have nobody--nobody!" said the girl. "You see everyone thinks only of himself, and alas! everybody has enough of his own to look after."